


The Bruises We Share

by SereneCalamity



Category: Batman (Movies - Nolan), Batman - All Media Types, Gotham (TV)
Genre: Canon compliant-ish, F/M, Short & Sweet, teenage batcat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-14
Updated: 2018-05-14
Packaged: 2019-05-06 19:56:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14655063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SereneCalamity/pseuds/SereneCalamity
Summary: Selina has a not-so-unexpected visitor when she gets home...





	The Bruises We Share

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own the characters.

Selina Kyle frowned as she slowly pushed open the front door of her apartment. It wouldn't be the first time someone had broken in if that was the case, which is why she didn't keep anything valuable here, but the place didn't look as though it was trashed as she glanced around. She stepped into her apartment—silent and stealthy in the heeled boots that she was wearing. She frowned as her eyes flickered around the place that she worked hard to make into a home that she hadn't had growing up. Everything there was old and second-hand, but she liked it. Her eyes skimmed through the tiny kitchenette, passing over the small window over the sink and then flitting to her bedroom.

Then they swung back to the window, which was slightly open, a breeze coming through and ruffling the netted curtains that were in need of a wash.

She didn't leave that window open.

She knew better than that.

Selina let out a sigh of realization and shook her head as she walked a lot more quickly now, toward her bedroom. She pushed open her door, and as expected, on her bed with the thin mattress, lay Bruce Wayne.

"I have a front door, you know," Selina stated with raised eyebrows. "And I know you have a key, since Alfred cleans this place up once a week." She had never actually  _given_  either of them a key, but it wouldn't have been hard for Bruce to make a copy, and every Wednesday morning, when she returned from the night club she worked at with Barbara Kean and Tabitha Galavan, everything in her apartment was in the exact same place that it had been when she had left—other than the dishes, which were tidily put away—but it was so clean that she could literally eat off the floor. And she knew that it was Alfred who did it, and he didn't just employ some cleaning agency, because one; it wasn't as though there was some trust worthy cleaning agency that would send their people out to the Narrows to clean. Two; it always faintly smelt like Alfred's poncy cologne afterwards. And three; Alfred knew that Selina hated other people in her space, and as much as the two of them acted as though they didn't like each other, there was this mutual respect under it all and he wouldn't give someone permission to invade her privacy like that.

"How was work?" Bruce asked, completely ignoring her question.

"It was work," Selina replied with a shrug of her shoulders. Admittedly, her shift at  _The Sirens_  had finished over an hour ago and she had decided to traipse past one of the higher end restaurants that Penguin and his goons frequented. She had slipped in, glided through the bar area and picked up a couple of pretty looking bracelets and a wallet before deciding to head back to her apartment. "How was your... _Work_?" Sarcasm dripped off her statement because which nineteen year old Selina actually held down a relatively steady job, working at  _The Sirens_ , that didn't stop her from her light fingered extra-curricular activity.

It was who she was, and that wasn't going to change.

But Bruce didn't work or have a job, even as a cover, like Selina.

Sure, he was technically the owner of  _Wayne Industries_ , which meant he made a few appearances at board meetings, but that was more of a position that he could choose to drift in and out of when it suited him.

So Selina teased him about his ' _work_ ' or, as the press addressed them, the acts of vigilantism that occurred through the night.

"It was fine," Bruce replied as he sat up on her bed and shuffled closer to the end of the bed. Selina still didn't turn the light on, instead walking toward the edge of the bed and peering at his face, using the light of the moon that was coming through her curtain-less windows. She frowned at the way that his face was tilted, slightly to the side and down and then her lips parted as she saw discoloration on one side. She went to step back to turn on the light, but Bruce caught her wrist and tugged, so that she was pulled back to him.

"What happened to your face?!" She asked, her knees ending up on either side of his legs.

"Nothing," Bruce rolled his eyes at her and attempted to reach up and kiss her.

"Oh, no, Bruce.  _Something_  happened, because that wasn't there this morning, and I know that's not from Alfred giving you a 'whallop', as he calls them, because last time I checked, you haven't done anything too douchebaggy recently," Selina snarked as she managed to grip his chin in two fingers.

"Hey!" Bruce protested.

"I don't know if you sound all upset because you don't like it being rubbed in your face that Alfred can get the drop on you, or because I call you on it when you act like a douchebag," Selina stated as she looked at the raised skin on the left side of his face, underneath his eye.

"Alfred doesn't get the drop on me!" Bruce shot back and Selina just pulled back and lifted an eyebrow.

"I'm pretty sure we all know Alfred could kick your ass if he wanted to," Selina responded with a smirk. Bruce tried to reply but his words were muffled when she lifted up the fingers that were underneath his chin and smushed them against his lips, forcing him to shut up. She made a face as she looked at the bruising on his eye as best she could in the dim lighting. He was going to have a nasty shiner in the morning, but it was nothing he wasn't used to. Or her, for that matter. Both of them had dealt with a whole lot worse.

"I don't want to talk about it," Bruce finally managed to get the words about past her fingers and wrapped an arm around her waist and flopped backwards on the bed, bringing Selina down with him. "Just some guy who was trying to take an old ladies car."

"You should get some ice on that," she continued, even as she felt her stomach squeeze from the position that they were now in. Bruce's lips tipped upward in a cheeky smirk on the right hand corner and even though she had seen this type of smirk on so many different mens mouths, it was different when it was Bruce.

"You offering to be my personal nurse, Cat?" He asked with a rasp to his voice.

"You wish, rich boy," Selina managed to say before Bruce was reaching up and bringing their mouths firmly together. They both had several bruises and cuts from their training together and the things that they got up to when the moon rose over the city of Gotham—one of the many things that they shared, and so they had to be careful when they rolled over, Bruce moving so that he was braced over Selina. They kissed the way they bantered with each other—teasing and playing. Pushing and pulling. Gripping one another shoulders while trying to take control of the kiss. Selina was trying to roll them back over when they reached the end of the bed and the pair of them both let out squeaks as they rolled right off the edge of the bed and onto the floor.

Bruce made sure to turn himself so that he took the brunt of the fall, with Selina on top and he grunted as they hit the ground. Selina let out a laugh as her curls bounced around her face and off her cheeks and Bruce shook his head as he looked up at her. Both of her hands were gripping her hips, but once they were steadied, he lifted one of his hands to touch her cheek gently. He did that sometimes, treated her like she was breakable and she even though there had been this—this  _thing_  between them for several years now, she still wasn't used it.

"Come on," she mumbled. "Let's get some ice on that eye of yours." She pushed away from Bruce and he just smiled and shook his head, knowing that she was just trying to change the subject. He let her do it though, getting up off the ground and following her into the kitchen, because he would eventually wear her down, and one day she would let him treat her as gentle and as soft as she deserved.

Maybe when that day came around, neither of them would be carrying as many bruises.


End file.
